Arnold of the Dead
by BlackRob88
Summary: Arnold and his surviving friends attempt to survive the zombie apocalypse. Can they keep their sanity and humanity in the process.
1. Arnold of the Dead

Rated T for intense, graphic violence and some language. Reader discretion advised

Alright, this is the first fanfic I've posted here in a while, so honest and constructive criticism is recommended but if you just want to give love to the fic, that's cool too. Now let's get on with the story because there is nothing like a group of grade school kids brutally killing each other, lol.

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><p>Arnold of the Dead<p>

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><p>It was a normal day at P.S. 118 it seemed. Children were playing around in Mr. Simmons class. Paper and spit balls were hurled across the room, and talking filled the air, nearly muting the teacher's voice. It was close to the end of the day, the last day of the school week, but the joy and relief that many kids have during that time of day, Arnold didn't share. Something inside of him didn't sit well, and he's had that feeling all day. His best friend Gerald noticed this.<p>

"Hey man, what's up? You've looked as down as a kid who's had his toys snatched from him." Gerald asked, wondering about his best friend's depressed state.

"I… I don't know. I've had this uncomfortable feeling deep down. I don't know how to explain it." The football headed boy replied, as he nervously played with his hands.

"Is this about the baseball game after school? Man, you know we're going to whoop Harold's team like a bad child." Gerald boasted, with a smirk on his face. The kids had planned a baseball game after school, with Harold and Gerald being the team captains. Gerald was thinking about the baseball game, giving him a confident look on his face, but this soon disappeared when he glanced at Arnold's face still filled with unease.

"It's not the game , Gerald" Arnold responded. "Its… something I can't quite put my finger on."

"Is it something at home that's bothering you?"

"No, not really. Things have been pretty good at home. I'm sorry Gerald, If I actually knew, I'd tell you, but…"

"Don't forget to show up at the field after school," Harold interrupted. "So you can get pounded in baseball, HAHAHA!" laughed Harold. He soon pulled a bag of jawbreakers out and popped several in his mouth. One of them missed however and rolled towards the door of the classroom. Gerald, on the defensive, responded, "Yeah a team is getting pounded tonight, and it won't be mine, ain't that right, Arnold?"

"Yeah," replied Arnold. He had tried to sound more upbeat, but was still unsettled. Harold sensing Arnold's disturbed state, would jump in, "HA, even Arnold know what's coming to him today."

"Yeah, what's coming to him is the sweet taste of victory, ain't that right, Arnold?" Gerald fired back, nudging his good friend.

"_Maybe this game will lift me up, take my mind off this feeling."_ Arnold thought to himself, as he lifted his head from off his desk. _"Maybe this game is what I need."_ His thoughts would be interrupted when a red haired kid of short stature, wearing a white polo shirt, shorts, socks and flip flops came meandering into the classroom. The young boy, unaware of the jawbreaker beneath the sole of his shoe, put his foot forward, losing traction and started rolling on the jawbreaker. He nearly took Mr. Simmons out, had the teacher not dodged, at the last second. The boy would fall with a solid thud on his behind.

"I'm ok." Eugene muttered in a daze as he gripped a cloth covering the teachers desk, trying to regain his footing, but unfortunately for the clumsy boy, he pulled the cloth down with all the contents including heavy books, teaching aides, and writing utensils, with it. The boy was pummeled with the items as he lied on the floor defenseless. The classroom exploded in laughter at Eugene's misfortune. Mr. Simmons helped him up, leading Eugene as he stumbled to his desk.

"Harold, I've told you before, please no candy in the classroom." Mr. Simmons sensibly reminding Harold in a calm, yet demanding tone. "And remember class, don't forget your reports on great inventions of the 20th and 21st centuries. It's always amazing to see how these inventions helped shaped the world we live in today, and hopefully you will too." He informed his class, trying to put a positive and interesting spin on the assignment, but the kids weren't having any of it. It was just an obstacle in the way of their weekend. The school bell rung, releasing the kids from the boredom of school to the excitement of the weekend. "Be safe this weekend." Mr. Simmons yelled to the kids as they were leaving the class.

"Oh baby, I've been waiting all week for this game." Helga Pataki announced to the kids around her locker, including Arnold ,Gerald and her best friend the studious Phoebe. "I'm ready to slug some homers with this bad boy." said Helga, as she pulled a brand new alloy bat from her locker. The kids were impressed with the expensive bat. "Oh and football head, remember this is a baseball game not a being nice contest, bring your A-game, not that lovey-dovey crap." Helga snorted at Arnold, as she took practice swings with the bat, one of which nailed Eugene, still recovering from earlier.

"I'm ok," the accident prone boy responded.

"Gosh Eugene, can't you go a minute without having something hit you?" a sarcastic Helga asked, still swinging her bat.

"We'll get em', today, don't trip. And all your troubles will go away," said Gerald in an attempt to lift Arnold's spirits, as they were about to walk out of the school, when an urgent announcement was made over the intercom.

"Children please, RETURN TO YOUR CLASSROOMS," Principal Wartz yelled into his microphone. "PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR CLASSROOMS! THERE IS AN EMERGENCY!" the principal stressed, his voice growing in despair as he tried to catch the attention of the kids in the halls of the school. They could feel the agony as the tone of his voice belted from fear. The children of the school stood still trying to gather info on what could be going on.

"CHILDREN PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR CLASS UNTIL FUR- NO!, THEY'VE FOUND THEIR WAY INSIDE! NO STAY BACK, GET AWAY YOU BRAIN MUNCHING…NO…NOOOOOOO!" the intercom cut off. The fear among the children shot up. Rumors began circulating that there were random attacks outside. Mr. Simmons tried to calm and assure the kids that they were safe.

"Children, let's just return to the class, we'll hopefully be safe… ," unfortunately for Mr. Simmons, as he walked past a window, a man popped out of nowhere, grabbing the balding teacher. The man's skin had a pale grayish green complexion. It was covered in lesions and cuts. His skin had the horrific smell of something decomposing, causing some of the children to vomit. His eyes had a blank, lifeless glare. Mr. Simmons tried to get away, struggling for his life, but his actions were futile, as the man dug his teeth into the teacher's neck, tearing into his carotid artery. Blood began squirting everywhere, as the teacher cried out in anguish, pleading for help. The kids stood paralyzed in shock and fear, as they watched the teacher slowly being devoured. Those that weren't in complete shock, screamed in fear. Chaos soon enveloped the entire school. Kids were stricken with pandemonium.

"Holy shit, did you see that?" an erratic Gerald asked Arnold, still stunned by what he saw. He tried but no words could leave his mouth at the time. Unlike the other kids however, Helga took her bat and began walking down the hall toward the cannibalistic man and Mr. Simmons.

"What are you doing?" queried a worried Phoebe, watching her friend approach a dangerous situation.

"You know I've never been one to stand still while shits going down," replied Helga, with a slight smirk on her face. She began to pick up speed as her began to propel her faster and faster. She took a big leap towards the cannibal, taking a mighty swing. A heavy crunching noise filled the halls. Brain matter and blood blanketed the girl with the large pink bow. The man collapsed into a pool of blood. Helga began to approach her teacher, barely alive and barely coherent.

"Help… me," asked a scarcely audible Mr. Simmons due to the damage to his throat.

"I will," Helga responded, whispering into his ear. "I'm afraid I have to do this," as she cocked the bat over her head.

"NO HELGA, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Arnold screamed.

"Putting him out his misery," she swung the bat downward with all her might, crashing it into her teacher's skull. More blood spurted upon the young girl. Arnold approached her with vigor, angered at what he had just seen.

"YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO KILL HIM! WE COULD'VE GOTTEN HELP!" Arnold screamed at Helga, as Gerald and Phoebe followed. They were both stunned at the fact that their friend, their classmate, just killed their teacher.

"Doi, football head, have you never seen a zombie movie? He was bitten, he was going to turn into a zombie and possible eat us alive. Do you want that? Besides, he was bleeding to death and was in complete agony. We couldn't leave him in that state," Helga replied as she began walking towards a storage room.

"Zombies? No way. Zombies aren't real. There has to be an explanation," Arnold told Helga in complete disbelief of what was going on. _"Zombies really? No way. That only happens in movies and video games. The way that guy looked, he looked really sick, but he wasn't a zombie. Was he?"_ Arnold thought as he tried to wrap his head around this thoughts would be interrupted as more zombies broke into the school. They came through the windows and the doors of the school, attacking the first things they saw. Children were being ripped into, as the zombies devoured their innards.

"Dude, I think they're actually zombies. Look at them. They look like the zombies, smell like zombie, eat like zombies. They're zombies dude, we've got to face it," Gerald told Arnold as he shook him, hoping he would come to his senses. "Phoebe, can zombies actually exist, answer me dammit," a shook up Arnold demanded from the young, bookish girl, grabbing her arms very tightly.

"You're hurting me,"

"ANSWER ME!"

"It's…It's not impossible theoretically. Perhaps through advanced forms of rabies, Mad Cow disease, neurotoxins, or some other disease, or chemical that can possibly debilitate the human brain to a zombie like state," Phoebe briefed Arnold on the possibilities. He loosened his grip on her and hung his head. "I'm so sorry Phoebe, I was just…"

"It's ok Arnold, I completely understand," Phoebe told Arnold, trying to reassure him. The group arrived at the storage room finding it locked. Helga tried to charge into the door shoulder first but to no avail. "Some help here," Helga told the group as she scowled. Together, they leaned in and charged the door knocking it inward. Arnold and Gerald tried to barricade the door shut with old desks, while the girls looked around for weapons in the dark windowless room.

"Ok, we're gonna have to work with this for now," Helga conveyed to the group after finding some items. She collected a couple of two foot long iron pipes, a two foot long crowbar, a hatchet and a spade.

"Pick your weapon folks, we're gonna need them," Helga said to the crew. Phoebe picked up the hatchet; Gerald chose the crowbar; while Arnold reluctantly chose a pipe, while Helga put the rest of the items in a bag.

"I don't think I could kill anyone, whether they're a zombie or not," Arnold revealed to Helga, "I couldn't take another person's life."

"Quit being so naïve Arnold, it's a zombie apocalypse. Its kill or be killed. That's how it is out there. Love and peace isn't going to cut it anymore, bucko," said Helga breaking it to Arnold. _"Is it really that bad out there, if so what about my Grandpa and Grandma, I have to find them, save them," _Arnold thought to himself. He would be disturbed however as a group of zombies started to break down the barricade.

"Ok looks like it's time to roll. Hey football head, ready to go back out there?"

"I guess. But if we do, we have to find my grandparents."

"Right now, we have to concentrate on surviving," Helga asserted, brandishing her bat, getting it ready for action. Gerald and Phoebe were doing the same as well, while Arnold stood back contemplating of his grandparents and their safety. The door burst open, knocking the desks back, allowing several zombies to pour in. Their mouths and hands were covered in blood and flesh, as they stretched towards the kids. But Helga was ready and waiting. As a couple of zombies lunged at her, evading their blood stained hands, then kicked one, sending it falling back into the group of zombies. She took a hard cut at the closest zombie to her, smashing its head open. Another came lunging towards her, but she tripped it, sending the zombie falling to the floor. She lifted her foot up and gave it a few stomps to the head, before it stopped moving. One zombie was able to get her hands a few inches away from her head, but she deflected the zombies disgusting mitts, as she swung hard at the zombies head, connecting. The impact upon its head made a loud crunch as its brain matter, blood, and cerebral juices splattered the doorway. Gerald and Phoebe would get in on the action, as the zombies began coming after them. Phoebe took a swing at the zombie's legs with the hatchet, taking out one of its leg. The hobbled zombie fell to the floor allowing her to split its head open. Gerald took a swing at a zombie's head with his crowbar connecting and killing it. Arnold, still apprehensive about killing, nervously walked towards the group.

"Way to go falling into the background and letting us do all the work. Listen pal, you're no good to us, if you're a scared little punk," Helga snorted at Arnold, pushing her finger into his chest. "It's not that, it's that I don't think its right. They may have a cure out there somewhere," Arnold angrily replied, knocking her hand back.

"Listen people, all this fighting isn't getting us no where. We have to stick together," Gerald conveying to both Helga and Arnold while separating the two.

"Gerald's correct, our chances for survival rises substantially, if there are more people working together," informed Phoebe.

"Fine, but let me ask him this. One of us get caught by a zombie, what's he gonna do, punk out like a little bitch?"

"Enough Helga, leave him alone," said Gerald, defending Arnold.

The group stepped out into the hallway, and was left aghast at what they saw. The halls, which during normal times was filled with kids playing around, getting to class, was now covered in the blood, flesh, and remains of their fellow classmates and teachers. Most of those who weren't dead were now mindless, incoherent, grunting, flesh devouring zombies.

"It's…it's… it's hell," muttered Gerald, reacting to the sight of the hallway, now a killing field.

"AHHH!" a loud scream caught the group's attention. They followed the noise until they caught up to it, to find that the lanky, hippie girl Sheena had been caught by a group of zombies. They tried to save her but it was too late. The zombies started sinking their teeth into her body and drug her off. The group hung their head in disappointment, as they failed to save a friend. Things were about to get worse however. The screams had garnered the attention of many zombies. A mass of them gathered and began approaching the crew's direction. If that wasn't bad enough a zombie came out of nowhere and snatched Arnold from the group.

"ARNOLD," shouted Helga, but she had enough on her plate. At least ten of them surrounded the group and more seemed to be coming, preventing her or the rest of the group from retrieving Arnold.

"Alright folks, let's go out swinging," Helga yelled in an attempt to make a rally cry. And swing they did, trying to take out as many zombie as possible.

Arnold, meanwhile, was desperately trying to free himself from his zombie captor. The zombie was ready to eat the young boy, and it was not losing its grip, but Arnold was able to grab the pipe he had earlier, smashing it in the zombies head. Now that he was free, he had to help his friends out. He rushed to the group of zombies, trying to attack his friends. They were holding out, but getting overwhelmed, that was until Arnold jumped in. He rapidly swung the iron pipe, taking one out. They began to gather around him, but he was prepared. Using his martial arts training his grandmother taught him, he sprang into action. He deflected the hands of the zombies with incredible dexterity, allowing him to setup for a roundhouse kick, sending several of them falling back. With another swing crushed the skull of another zombie. Sensing a couple of them coming from behind, he performed a leg sweep, knocking the two over. He took the pipe, using it to impale one of the zombies lying on the ground, while he stomped on its head. He removed the pipe from the zombie, hurling it at couple more, spearing them in the face. He kicked the two bodies off the pipe, and began to twirl the pipe in his hands rapidly. He leapt a couple of feet in the air, taking a hard swing, striking several zombies to the point their skulls burst open. He picked up the pipe, deflecting a couple of zombies coming towards him with it. Using both hands, he got the pipe spinning again, letting it twirl above his head. The pipe spun with dizzying speeds, striking the zombies repeatedly until their skulls gave in, splattering brains about. The group took advantage of an opening, slaying the last few zombies in that horde. Helga, Gerald and Phoebe were left in awe at Arnold's battle prowess.

"MAN, THAT WAS FREAKING AMAZING!" an excited Gerald said to his best friend.

"It was an incredible display of martial arts. You're an exceptional combatant," Phoebe complimented.

Helga was equally impressed, but her pride wouldn't let her show it.

"Uhh, that was umm… alright I guess, wasn't anything special," Helga said, trying to downplay his display of fighting. However, when the coast was clear, she disappeared around the corner to reflect on what she saw, pulling out a locket with Arnold's face, clutching it dearly.

"_Oh my precious Arnold, I would have never paid heed in eons, at your fighting prowess. You are the ultimate specimen of a man, sensitive, understanding, harmonious with his fellow man, but when time calls for it can also be a strong, heroic, fearless young man. It would be my honor being with you until the end of the world…"_

Helga was unable to finish her declaration, as one of the zombies they had just fought, wasn't quite dead yet. It grabbed her leg, catching her off guard. She let out a scream. The others came rushing to her rescue. As soon as Arnold arrived, he lifted his pipe up over his head, and released, slamming the pipe into the zombie's cranium, finishing the job. "Don't think you're some hero, football head," she told Arnold, while gathering her composure.

"We have to see if anyone else need our help," Arnold threw out to the crew. "There are probably still plenty of us alive. Let them join the group, it'll make us stronger, right Phoebe,"

"Uhh, right," Phoebe responded.

"What, are you crazy, you'll get us killed," Helga fired back.

"I'm going to try find the others to see if they need help, you come with me or not," said Arnold in a demanding tone.

"Fine, Arnold, even you couldn't survive, on your own," Helga sighed.

As they were about to make their way, they saw Sid running down the hall in a panic. He had blood all over him, and tears in his eyes.

"Oh God, I've seen some terrible things," Sid said to Arnold, clutching him.

"It's ok Sid stick with us and hopefully we can make it out of this together," Arnold told Sid in an assuring voice. The group began running the halls of the school, looking for survivors but to no avail. They continued on their way, slaying a few zombies in the process when Arnold and company stopped in their tracks. A young red haired girl with pigtails, wearing a green dress and shoes, was kneeled over the body of a kid.

"Lila?" Arnold politely asked trying not to startle her, but gain her attention. The girl stood up and turned around revealing a blank, lifeless glare, completely lacking of conscious. Her mouth was flowing with, blood, and her skin was dry and pale. "LILA, NO!" Arnold screamed.

"Oh this is too good, I'm taking care of this," Helga declared with a sadistic smile on her face. But Arnold held her back, yelling "DON'T". He approached her cautiously, as zombie Lila sauntered toward him. He stood still for a moment, and began to reminisce over the time he spent her. The girl he had feelings for. The girl he cared for. The cute, sweet, nice, considerate, polite girl, who though lacked the same feelings for him, he still loved her nonetheless. But what was standing in front of him wasn't the Lila he knew; it wasn't really even a fraction. The things that made her what she was, her cute smile, her innocent demeanor, were gone, replaced with the mindless stare and appetite to eat flesh. He couldn't stand to see her like that cringing in agony. He took his hand and began slowly caressing her bloodstained hair.

The group was stunned and bewildered. "ARNOLD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" shouted Gerald.

"KILL THAT BITCH!" screamed Helga.

"KILL IT!" yelled Sid. But none of them understood. They never invested as much emotionally into her. It was killing him inside seeing her like this. With a tear rolling down his cheek, Arnold lifted the pipe above him.

"I'm so sorry," Arnold in a low, saddened tone told the zombie Lila. With the pipe he slammed it into the girl's head making a moist but loud crunching noise that filled the school.

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><p>Wow, that was long. I didn't anticipate it would be this much work. The following chapter won't be nearly as long, lol. Hopefully you enjoyed it, and I said I haven't written anything in a while so reviews would be appreciated, especially well rounded constructive criticism.<p> 


	2. The Young and the Dead

I noticed that in the last chapter, I failed to put in a disclaimer, so here it goes: I do not own Hey Arnold, Craig Bartlett does, and be grateful I don't, because it wouldn't be the show you know and love.

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><p>Chapter 2: The Young and the Dead<p>

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><p>Arnold found himself bewildered in his current situation. The walls of P.S. 118 had turned a whitish gray hue. The blood and bodies disappeared, leaving the hallways bare, occupied only by Arnold himself and the lockers. Many thoughts ran through his head. What happened to the school? Was this outbreak real, and most of all what happened to my friends?<p>

"_Please don't tell me the zombies have killed my friends," _Arnold thought to himself as he searched the halls of the school looking for signs of life.

"Gerald, Phoebe, Sid, Helga. Can anyone hear me?" Arnold cried out looking in the rooms of the hallway.

"Arnold," a voice called back. The voice had a soft feminine tone, it was familiar but he couldn't put a face on it quite yet.

The voice somewhat startled Arnold, desperately searching for the location of the voice.

"Arnold, why didn't you save me," the voice asked this time coming from a different direction. Arnold was starting to get confused. The voice seemed to never stay in one place, which made finding the speaker more difficult, though he began to have an idea.

"Where are you? Do you know where my friends are?" Arnold yelled back in response.

"Arnold," the voice called out to him, this time sounding like it was immediately behind him. He turned around to see, only to find nothing. He turned back around to face the direction he was previously in, only to be thrown off guard. Lila Sawyer had appeared out of nowhere. She didn't seem real, almost ghost like, but there she was, standing in front of Arnold

"Arnold, why didn't you save me? How could you kill me, I was ever so kind to you," the girl wondered, expecting an answer from Arnold.

"I'm sorry; I couldn't get to you in time. Had I known you were trouble, I would've tried to save you," Arnold responded slowly lowering his head in disappointment.

"But how could you kill me,"

"That wasn't you. That wasn't the real you, it was just a shell, not the girl I knew. She wasn't sweet, kind or polite. It pained me to see you in that state; I couldn't let you continue on that way,"

"But who are you to decide that Arnold? Who are you to decide our fates?" Lila asked Arnold. Lila was soon joined by several people. They were the zombies Arnold killed but in regular human, and they wanted the same answers as Lila. The group began to circle Arnold asking questions.

"How could you kill us Arnold?" one person asked.

"We thought you cared about people," another person yelled to him.

With tears in his eyes, Arnold collapsed to the floor, grasping his head.

"You weren't the people you were, but still, I'm sorry. I… I'm so, so sorry," Arnold cried out.

"WHY, ARNOLD?"

"WHY?"

The questions from the crowd kept coming, louder and angrier. All Arnold could do was apologize.

"I'M SORRY,"

"Hey Arnold,"

The football headed boy opened his eyes, recognizing the voice of his best friend Gerald. With his back against a wall, Arnold found himself in a nearly empty classroom. Sid and Gerald were to the side of him. Helga was standing atop a barricade of desk, with Phoebe on the side steadying the desk to help Helga maintain her balance. It was assuring to find his friends, but it was no time to feel comfortable. The outbreak was still out there. It's like waking up from one nightmare and re-entering another.

"So you finally wake up football head. Way to go passing out on us, all that commotion you made attracted a horde of zombies. We had to find somewhere to drag your carcass and lay low for a moment. Just when I thought you were coming through for us you d something that nearly gets us killed. Quit acting like a little punk Arnold," Helga yelled at the blonde haired boy, jumping off the desks to confront him.

"You think this is easy? These people used to be our teachers, our classmates, our friends. This isn't a video game Helga, this isn't fun and it's not enjoyable for me. In fact these are the hardest things, I've ever had to do," Arnold fired back, sticking his face angrily in front of Helga's.

"Those were my classmates out there too pal. You think I'm playing a game out there? You think this fun for me?"

"I couldn't tell with that big smile on your face as you were about to kill Lila," Arnold shrieked. Tension was high between the two and someone needed to step in to prevent it from escalating.

"Alright folks calm down," Gerald stepped in, separating the two. "Let's save our aggression for the zombies."

"Arnold, I know exactly how you feel. It's the worst thing you can ever do to your friend," Sid revealed to the group.

"What happened?" asked Phoebe.

"It was the end of the day. Me and Stinky were about to leave school."

_Class had just been released at P.S.118. Kids didn't have anything else on their minds except the joy of the weekend. Sid and Stinky were walking the halls on their way out of the school, chatting about the baseball game._

"_Garsh, I'm ready for a good ol' game of baseball, I reckon I'll do pretty good," said an excited Stinky in his typical southern drawl._

"_Yeah, Gerald's team ain't gonna know what hit 'em," Sid replied._

_An announcement on the intercom interrupted the two. The message sounded pretty urgent._

_"PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR CLASSROOMS! THERE IS AN EMERGENCY!"_

_The two boys as well as the rest of the children in the hall stood still, trying to gain a hold on the situation._

_"CHILDREN PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR CLASS UNTIL FUR- NO!, THEY'VE FOUND THEIR WAY INSIDE! NO STAY BACK, GET AWAY YOU BRAIN MUNCHING…NO…NOOOOOOO!"_

"_Brain munching, that sounds like something a zombie would do," Sid spoke to the lanky southerner. "Can this really be an outbreak?"_

"_I don't know but this sounds like it's really gonna bite."_

_The halls of the school erupted in chaos as the kids of P.S. 118 ran in fear. The two boys had to move soon before they were overwhelmed and trample. The two made a mad dash, when Stinky felt a hand wrapping around his arm, pulling him back. The hand was pale, covered in blood, sores, and had wretched scent. He looked back to see the arm belonged to a man whose body was covered with the same ailment as his hand. Sid looked back and knew his friend needed help. Sid and Stinky knocked the man back, causing it to lose his grip on the taller boys arm. Stinky tried to run away but the zombie grasped on to his ankle, causing him to fall. Gritting his bloodstained teeth, the zombie man sunk them into the boy's ankle. The hobbled boy fell to the floor letting out a shrill cry. Sensing once again his friend was in dire need of help, Sid dodged the panicking children getting to his Stinky and his attacker. Sid gave a swift kick to the head of the zombie causing him to once again lose its grip on the boy. Sid had to get him somewhere safe and soon, he was crying out in agony._

"_Stay with me Stinky" Sid told his friend as he dragged Stinky to the nearest empty classroom, locking the door behind him. He wanted to attend to his wound but if this was anything like he thought, he could be turning into a zombie any second. But hearing his friend cry out in agonizing pain, he couldn't simply leave him there alone. Before he could approach his friend, Sid noticed that Stinky began trembling more and more, his eyes slowly began rolling back into his head. His skin started to turn a pale gray, his skin emitted an awful smell and lesions began opening up. The trembling in Stinky's body finally subsided. Slowly and nervously, Sid walked towards his, wondering if there were any signs of life. Sid prodded the body with his, but there was no reaction. With no warning, Stinky's body sprang up, catching Sid by surprise and sending him falling into several desks. Stinky crept towards Sid, face lacking any emotion or signs of life, and mouth agape, ready to tear a chunk of flesh from the boy in the beatle boots. Sid pushed himself backward away from zombie Stinky, when he noticed that one of the legs on a desk was loose. He tried to break the leg away quickly as he saw zombie Stinky creeping closer and closer. The zombie got within inches of the boy's face. With a mighty pull, Sid was not only able to get the desk leg free, he pulled it with such force that the swinging motion struck zombie Stinky in the temple. He collapsed to the floor, with a pool of blood forming moments afterward while Sid stood in complete shock._

"And that's what happened," Sid told the group, detailing his survival story to the group. Both Arnold and Gerald lowered their heads somberly. Phoebe lifted her glasses to wipe a tear from her eye. Even Helga shed a tear, but her pride wouldn't let her be seen crying. She ran to a corner that no one was paying attention to and pulled out her locket, watching Arnold walk over to Sid to console him.

"It's ok Sid," was all Arnold could say to him. Nothing in his lifetime would've prepared him for something like this. Something that would pit man against man, even if the other man was just a mindless shell of themselves, he was still someone.

"Oh Arnold, so sweet, so caring, so selfless, so remorseful. Always willing to put the needs of others over his own. Always trying to bring the best out of people, while I try to tear those people down. I'm a monster, I don't deserve your heart, perhaps, one day I will gain the privilege of your love," Helga declared to herself blissfully, tucking her locket back in. She got up and walked to the windows where the group was gathered, watching the city turn into ruins.

"It's hell out there," Helga noted.

Hillwood was beginning to look like a war zone. Pillars of smoke rose in the skyline. Abandoned cars cluttered the roads. The undead roamed the streets, searching for the next unfortunate soul to devour. Trails of blood covered the sidewalks.

"What about our families man, do you think they're still alive?" Gerald asked the group.

"One can only hope," Phoebe responded sullenly.

"AAAAHHHHH!"

A scream from the hallways caught the group's attention.

"Someone's in trouble," Sid pointed out.

"C'mon," Arnold yelled out to the group, quickly trying to move the desks out of the way. The group obliged and joined him, trying to reach the person in time before it was too late. They opened the door and saw in the corner of the hall, a brunette girl in a red shirt and black pants trying to ward off a group of zombies but to no avail.

Rhonda cowered in the in corner, finding herself surrounded by zombies. As the horde circled in on her and seemingly no hope of rescue, she covered her face in desperation and fear.

CRACK!

SPLAT!

Rhonda found herself covered in blood and pieces of flesh. A few of the zombie of the zombies circling her were gone. She was relieved to see the faces standing in front of her: Arnold and Helga, both offering their hands to help her get up. She looked to the sides to see Gerald, Phoebe and Sid taking care of the rest of the zombies in that group. After wiping some of the blood off her face, Rhonda looked down to see that her pants were now stained with the blood of zombies.

"No, my new Dior pants are stained, my mom just got these for me yesterday," Rhonda complained, trying to wipe some of the blood off her pants.

Helga slammed her bat by Rhonda's face, intimidating her to a standstill. "Listen princess, the name brands that you wear, the expensive shit you own, how rich your parents are, none of that shit matters anymore." She threw down the items left in the bag in front of Rhonda.

"What am I supposed to do with this stuff?"

"Choose something that you can kill a zombie with and don't take all damn day either," Helga scowled at the wealthy girl. Rhonda gulped and slowly picked up the pipe.

"Harold, HAROLD, there was a group of them chasing him upstairs not too long ago," Rhonda informed the group.

"We're going to have to move quickly. Let's go," Arnold rallied. The crew dashed up the stairway to be met with a familiar cry.

"I WANT MY MOMMY!" Harold was surrounded by several zombies. Armed with only a ruler, the zombies backed him against the lockers. He shielded his face, awaiting his fate.

Helga jumped into action, connecting with the skull of a zombie, squirting blood over the locker. With his pipe, Arnold knocked a zombie backwards, allowing him to strike the zombies head. Phoebe took her hatchet and struck another zombie in its knee, sending it crumpling to the ground, allowing Gerald to finish the job with his crowbar. Harold found himself face to face with a zombie, mouth wide open, ready to bite plugs out of him. With the ruler in his hand he quickly shoved it in the zombie's eye, watching it drop to the floor.

"OH THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOUUU!" Harold cried out tightly embracing a stunned Helga. Looking none too pleased, Helga pried the boy off of her.

"Get off me, lardo," Helga yelled at Harold, shoving him away. Annoyed, Helga scolded him for his choice of weapon, the ruler.

"Why in the world would you choose a damn ruler? You can't just stick every zombie in the eye, what happens when you get overrun, fatboy."

"I was scared ok, I grabbed the nearest thing to me, I didn't know what else to get," Harold tearfully replied. Helga sighed and presented Harold with the spade.

Harold's face presented a perplexed look. "So, I dig up more zombies with it?" he asked.

"No, you idiot, you crack them in the head with it. People act like they've never seen zombie flick before," Helga groaned.

"Sweet, next zombie I see I'm gonna pound them."

"Exactly what I like to hear," said Helga, forming a smirk on her face.

During the back and forth between Helga and Harold, Arnold could hear someone sobbing behind him. He looked at Rhonda, watching her wipe the tears away with her shirt. The group stopped to watch Arnold trying to console Rhonda.

"What is it Rhonda?"

"Nadine… we were together before it happened. The other kids started running everywhere. I looked back and she was gone. You'll find her won't you?"

Arnold looked up to her. He couldn't make any promises but he was going to put forth the effort.

"We'll try, Rhonda, we'll try," Arnold assured.

Any door that could open they searched the rooms behind them, classroom, or closet, but were unable to find anyone or at least anyone not in zombie form.

Gerald heard a bit of commotion down the hall. He saw a classroom door burst open, watching Eugene trying to run away from a group of zombies. The group turned around and watched, as Eugene tripped over his feet, but crawled his way to the nearest open door: A boy's restroom.

"Arnold, did you see that?" Gerald asked Arnold.

"Yeah, we have to hurry and save him,"

"Wait a minute football head," Helga interrupted. "Do I have to remind you how much of a jinx that boy is? He'll get us all killed, hell, I'm surprised he's not zombie chow yet."

Arnold turned to look at his best friend.

"She may have a point, Arnold, my man is a jinx," Gerald told him. Arnold looked at the rest of the group and the look on their faces seemed to agree with Helga and Gerald. Arnold was dismayed, he couldn't believe the group would turn their back on a friend, even one as accident prone as Eugene.

"I can't believe you guys. Eugene's our classmate, our friend, and you want to ignore the fact that he's in trouble. Maybe he has a few accidents, does that mean he doesn't deserve to live? He may not have the best luck, but that's just more of a reason why he needs us. He needs our help, I'm going to give him the help he needs," Arnold spoke out to the group, before he turned to make his way towards the restroom.

"I'm right behind you Arnold," Gerald said to Arnold, running up and catching him. Arnold smiled and nodded his head in approval. The group rallied to Arnold as well.

"Oh fine football head," Helga sighed catching up to the group.

"Ewww, a boy's restroom. I'm not going in there," Rhonda complained.

"Oh, come on princess," Helga scowled, dragging Rhonda with her.

Eugene crawled his way into a restroom stall, locking the doors in hope that it was enough to keep them away. But the zombies pounded on the door harder and harder. The locks were seemingly going to give way at any second. He shielded his head, and hoped for the best. Eugene started here crunching noises coming closer and closer. He looked up above him and saw Helga reaching her hand out.

"Hey dork, grab my hand," He did, grasping tightly as she helped pull him up. Helga grabbed her bat, opened the stall and started swinging away, killing a couple of zombies, with Eugene at her side. They met up with Arnold and crew who had just cleared the restroom. They walked back into the hallway, with Eugene showing his gratitude to Helga and the rest of the group.

"I'm so glad you guys came and saved. I'm so thankful I have such brave friends who would put their lives on the line," Eugene acknowledged shifting his way backwards.

"Eugene, look behind you," Phoebe yelled. Eugene looked behind and saw a fire extinguisher. He tried to stop, but lost his balance, knocking the extinguisher down. It made loud clanks hitting the ground and then rolled down a close staircase. The noises attracted the attention of a horde of zombies.

"I'm ok. Sorry," Eugene ashamedly told the group.

"YOU DORK!" Helga shouted, while shaking Eugene. The zombies quickly began making their way towards the group. They ran for their lives looking for a place to hide out. Just down the hall, a Latin boy opened the door, watching the zombies chase the group.

"C'mon hurry," Lorenzo yelled holding the classroom door open. The group tried to propel themselves faster and faster. Eugene nearly lost his footing but Arnold was able to help him stay up. Unfortunately, it slowed him down as the group passed them up, getting into the classroom. Eugene ran into the doorway, but Arnold still hadn't made it yet. With the zombies on his heels, Arnold tucked a knee under his left leg, tilted his head sideways, and slid into the classroom. Lorenzo quickly locked the door, while 5th grader Wolfgang pushed the teacher's desk behind it.

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><p>The original copy of this story was accidentally deleted, so I had to rewrite. Unfortunately, I believe that was the superior story, but hopefully you'll like this one. Please review.<p> 


	3. Dead Child Walking

**I wished owned Hey Arnold, that way I could release the Jungle Movie to shut you guys up, LOL JK. Seriously it's the property of Craig Bartlett and Nickelodeon.**

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><p>Chapter 3: Dead Child Walking<p>

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><p>"Are you guys okay?" Lorenzo asked, inspecting the group for possible injuries. Arnold responded with a yes after several hard breaths. He was feeling fatigue setting in after his harrowing escape from the grasp of the zombies. Lorenzo glanced over at the rest of the group, looking for a response. The group quickly looked at each other then looked back at Lorenzo, nodding their heads in agreement. Lorenzo shot a sigh of relief. Wolfgang on the other didn't feel the same sentiment.<p>

"Oh great, exactly what we need, a bunch of punk-ass fourth-graders," Wolfgang fired out in disgust as he stacked desks to barricade the door once again. With a look of disgust on his face, Lorenzo quickly sprang and defended his fellow classmates.

"Leave them alone, we don't need to be fighting amongst each other right now,"

"Look at you little fourth-graders. You're small, weak and are only gonna get in my way," Wolfgang raged. Even in times like these he was willing go out his way to demean the fourth-graders. He was as ignorant, petty and cruel as ever. His abhorrent attitude was beginning to strike a nerve deep within Arnold.

"This is stupid Wolfgang, you need us as much as we need you. We need to start working together if we want to make it out of this," Arnold told the bully as he confronted him.

"You know what, I'm so damn tired of you treating us like this, like we're second class," an angry Helga hissed at Wolfgang. "Besides, there's only one of you and more of us, so I'd watch what I'd say bucko."

Helga pointed her hand at the kids in the room. She glanced at Joey and Mary looking out the window at the carnage in the streets of Hillwood. Maria, Arnold's one time date at the sixth grade dance sat at a desk cradling her face with her hands, softly whimpering away. Park sat alone in a corner, slowly rolling a blood covered pipe between his left and right hands. Sid and Harold sat with their backs against the wall, holding a conversation that could only be heard by the two of them. Sitting in a chair, Phoebe thumbed through the pages of a health book, desperately hoping to find any bit of information that could help her get a better understanding of this outbreak. She knew the chances of discovering any information of value, especially regarding the situation at hand, were practically nil, but she continued reading, hoping, wishing, praying she could find something. Gerald stood by, watching protectively over Phoebe, as if he knew something would attack at any second, and if it were to happen, he would be there to defend her, the knight in shining armor, to her damsel in distress, clutching the crowbar in his hands tighter. In the center of the room, Rhonda took several sheets of tissue from a Kleenex box, and began wiping the caking blood from her clothes. Helga looked over to another corner, eying Eugene sitting in fetal position. He returned a glance at her and forced a smile on his weary face, softening the scowl on her face. She turned away from Eugene to look back at Wolfgang with the scowl returning to her face.

"I don't give a damn how many fourth graders there are, just stay out my damn way, before you get me killed like you fourth graders got my friends killed," Wolfgang barked in fury, before the anger in his face subsided, replaced with one of depression and loss.

"What… What happened? What did we do?" Arnold queried.

"Me and the boys were about to leave school, when it all went to hell. It was crazy, people were running everywhere. We were almost out of the door, when… when… a fourth grader ran out of nowhere. He ran into us and tripped us up. And then… the zombies… they swarmed us, they couldn't get up fast enough. They got Ed… Edmund," a choked up Wolfgang revealed, with a tear forming in his right eye which he promptly wiped away. "And the little fourth grader just got up and ran, not a scratch on him."

"I'm sorry to hear that Wolfgang. I'm truly sorry," Arnold responded.

"I don't need your apologies and sympathy; I need you out of my damn way!"

"You think getting mad at us is going to bring your friends back, you're wrong, Bucko," Helga fired back.

"I know you're upset about what happened, but I'm sure that kid wasn't trying to get your friends killed. It was an accident, Wolfgang," Arnold told him, trying to calm him down.

"Football-boy, you think you know everything." Wolfgang yelled walking over to an empty chair. "BUT YOU DON'T KNOW SHIT!" He picked the chair up and with all of his strength, hurled the chair through the glass of the window, into the yard of the school, startling the children of the classroom. Wolfgang then bent over, with sounds of sobbing emanating from him. Visions of his friends, especially Edmund, being torn apart at the hands of the undead became too much to bear. Arnold slowly walked over to Wolfgang and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"It's ok Wolfgang," Arnold told him.

"Just… just live me alone," Wolfgang replied shrugging the hand off his shoulder. Arnold obliged and backed away, giving him his space.

Minutes passed, and the kids of the classroom began wondering what would be their next move.

"Arnold, we have to do something man. We can stay in this room forever," Gerald said to Arnold.

"Shame we can't call anyone," Helga noted, looking at the classroom phone with the cord ripped.

"Well, everything happened so fast I wasn't able to get it, but I do have a cell phone in my locker, I hope," Lorenzo informed the kids of the classroom.

Ok, and then what, anybody who goes out there is getting torn apart," Helga asked.

Standing on a desk, Arnold took a peek outside the window. He notices that the horde of zombies wasn't quite as large as before.

"There aren't as many zombies as there were before. Like Gerald said we can't stay here forever. This might be the time we can make our move," Arnold told the group.

The group agreed and gathered around Arnold at the front of the class, with the sole exception being an aggravated and upset Wolfgang, still stewing in his anger. Arnold cautiously walked over to his direction. "I know you're still upset about losing your friends, Wolfgang, but you won't have chance out there alone. You have to do this for your friends, Wolfgang. We won't let you down," Arnold appealed to the bully. Stubbornly, Wolfgang didn't think he needed the help, especially from a bunch of fourth graders. But he wasn't as big a fool as he looked; he knew the chance of surviving this thing were low if he was on his own.

"Whatever Football-head, don't get me killed," Wolfgang responded, begrudgingly accepting of Arnold's help. Arnold couldn't help but form a small smirk on his face, as Wolfgang walked over to the crew. He needed as much help he could get and with Wolfgang's strength and tenacity would be a vital component to the group. But his attitude, would he learn to get along with the group, could he put his bullying ways behind for the good of their survival, Arnold thought to himself. But he felt he couldn't simply pick and choose who could join the group, at least not at this time. Besides Arnold always looked for the best in people not their worst. Arnold looked at Helga, with her returning the glare.

"Your move, Football-head, do you have a plan?" Helga asked as she leaned against her bat.

"I'm trying to come up with one, do you have any ideas?"

"In fact I do," Helga answered as she looked at the group of kids. "Listen up everyone. As soon as we leave this classroom, we have to quickly gather together as a tight group. If you don't have a weapon, stay inside the group. If you do have something to protect yourself with, stay on the outside. We have to try to move as one group, so please try to keep up. Any objections?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," Arnold replied.

"Wolfgang?"

"Yeah whatever," Wolfgang answered lackadaisically, as he grabbed a bloodstained 2x4.

"OK," Helga said to the group as she kicked the bat upward into her hands. The kids moved the last of the desks out of the doorway.

"Are we ready?" Helga asked.

"I'm ready," Sid answered, brandishing his desk leg.

"Yeah," answered Park, clutching his pipe.

Joey and Lorenzo looked at each other for a moment and nodded their heads in agreement, holding their weapons, a pole and a metal table leg, respectively.

"Let's do this," Gerald said.

Helga looked over at Eugene, Maria, and Mary, who appeared lack the means to defend themselves. "Remember, stay within the group," Helga warned the three, who nodded their heads. She glanced over at Arnold, seeing the anticipation build in his emerald eyes, giving the idea that he was ready for action. He slowly exhaled and returned the glance at Helga, awaiting the question he knew was going to be inevitably asked.

"You ready, Football-head?" a snide Helga questioned.

"Yeah," Arnold answered. The answer she needed to hear.

"Then let's go out there and bust some heads open" Helga told the group with a cool and composed demeanor, opening the door into the hallway, surveying for anything of danger. She slowly crept into the hall, looking for any signs of the flesh eaters. She noticed a zombie staggering his way towards her. Helga cocked her bat back and swung, connecting with the zombie's skull, scattering the contents within. The coast was seemingly clear, no sign of hordes and oddly enough no other zombies in sight, Helga waved her hand, letting the group know that the coast was clear. They quickly huddled together, with those armed with weapons circling those lacking them.

"Remember, we move as one unit, and try not to slow us down," Helga reminded the crew of survivors, nodding their heads accordingly. The group slowly moved through the hallway, searching for dangers lurking about the gruesome scene displayed in the halls. The corpses of children and teachers lay dead on the floor, chunks of flesh ripped from their remains. Blood flowed from the carcasses into small streams of crimson. Harold swallowed the large lump forming within his throat, as he absorbed the grim sights around him. The group walked along the red trails of blood dripping down the stairs onto the first floor, the location of Lorenzo's locker. The group stopped where they stood when Helga halted them.

"Grrrrrr,"

"Shh, did you guys hear that," Helga asked, hearing a quiet growl.

An eerie silence filled their ears. Nerves ran high, as the silence crept on, and the group desperately tried to locate the chilling growl.

"GRRRRR,"

"It's getting closer," Arnold noted as he started to ready the pipe in his hands to attack.

"Look over there," Sid shouted as he pointed to a heap of corpses piled next to a classroom door. The group of kids walked carefully to the pile, readying their weapons.

"GRRRRRRR! AHHHHHH!"

The group jumped back as they saw a hand poke out from the center of the pile, pale and covered in blood. The hand pushed the corpses out of its way to drag the body of its keeper along.

"Aww man, its Iggy, or at least what's left of him," Harold commented as he stood in horror. Iggy's body was in horrid condition. His legs were missing, but his upper torso remained and his intestines trailed the floor, leaving behind a bloody mess. Joey felt he couldn't stand watching a friend of his suffering as a zombie.

"Sorry for this, Iggy," yelled Joey as he slammed the pole into his skull, spraying blood over his face. He turned away, walking back to the group, when he stopped where he was. Another hand from the pile grabbed the boy's ankle, pulling him to the ground. He tried to kick and shake the hand off but the zombies grip was applied very tightly. The group tried to come to Joey's rescue, but the zombie sunk his teeth into his leg. Joey's anguished screams rang throughout the halls, attracting zombies throughout the floor.

"Gotta do this Joey," Helga said as she hammered Joey head with her bat. Arnold struggled to watch another classmate fell to this horrendous outbreak.

Several doors down, an infected Wartz, tore down the door to the principal's office, looking for flesh to feast on.

"Alright everyone, try to protect those without weapons," Arnold shouted to the group, holding his pipe up ready to swing.

"It's show time," smirked Helga, as she twirled her bat. She charged towards a zombie, swinging hard at its head, busting open its skull. Arnold took the pipe in his hands and used it to knock a zombie back, before striking it in his head. While Helga was dealing with another zombie, a different zombie crept up behind her, with Helga unaware. Arnold made a move towards her direction, delivering a fatal blow to it. As the infected zombie approached her, Phoebe jumped up, swung the hatchet downward and splitting its skull open. Feeling the zombie approaching his direction, Gerald shifted to the side, spun himself towards the zombies direction, hitting the zombie with the curved end, before kicking its head off the crowbar. Sid jabbed a zombie in the eye with the desk leg, while Harold swung hard with his hatchet at a zombies neck, leaving it decapitated. Wartz had his infected eye on Rhonda, marching his way towards the wealthy girl. Closing her eyes, Rhonda desperately swung the pipe, connecting with the principals balding head. Wolfgang skillfully wielded the two by four, crushing the skull of a couple of zombies, sending blood, brain matter flying everywhere, and pieces of skull everywhere, while Park jammed the metal pipe into a zombie head, watching it collapse to the floor. They fought hard to survive but more trouble was coming as another, even larger group of zombies were coming. The group braced themselves, as they tried to run away, when they saw two figures in the background. One was tall and had a muscular build, and wore what looked like a blue bandanna on his head. The other was much shorter and skinnier, wearing glasses, and sporting a haircut which looked given with a bowl around his head.

"Is that I who I think it is?" Gerald asked, peering into the back ground to confirm the two. The smaller kid pulled out a slingshot with an ergonomic grip and a bag of steel ball bearings. He placed a ball bearing into the pocket of the slingshot setting up for aim. He pulled the pocket back to nearly the length of his arm and released, hitting a zombie in the eye socket and dropping it to the floor of the hall.

"Let's play," said Curly Gammelthorpe with a sadistic smirk on his face, as he placed another ball bearing in the slingshot, pulled back and released, killing another zombie. The other figure with him, Torvald, charged toward the horde swinging away with his two by four, smashing the heads of a couple of zombies into bloody chunks of skull and brain matter. Curly put away the slingshot, and pulled out a butterfly knife, flicked it opened stylishly and ran towards the horde. Dodging the hands of one zombie, he stabbed through the skull into its brain. Sensing another zombie moving towards him, Curly spun on his right foot in its direction, slashing in its throat before jabbing the blade into its skull.

"Man those ballet classes have been paying off for him," Gerald commented as the group were left in awe with Curly's agility and graceful movement while he slaughtered one zombie after another. One zombie tried to attack Curly while he was preoccupied with another, but Lorenzo struck the zombie in the back of the head with the table leg. Another zombie used its hands to try to slash at his head. Curly gracefully maneuvered around the zombie, stabbing it in the sphenoid bone of its skull. With the number of zombies lowered, the group were able to kill off the rest of the horde.

"Poor twisted little freak. Glad you're one of us," Helga gratefully told Curly, sticking her hand out as a welcoming gesture to the group. Curly gripped and shook her blood covered hand, looking over in Rhonda's direction.

"Hey any time my love's in trouble, I'll be there," said Curly staring in Rhonda's eyes. She put a disturbed look on her face, disgusted with his attempts to woo her. Just as she did a zombie sprang behind her, ready to kill. Curly quickly pulled out the slingshot, placed a ball bearing into the pocket, pulled back and released. Rhonda narrowly dodged the ball bearing, as it struck the zombie in its eye, sending it falling to the floor. Curly acted as if he was blowing imaginary smoke from the slingshot and gave the Rhonda the wink and the gun. Rhonda was deep into shock, unable to respond to Curly's gestures.

"Heh, it looks like you guys needed some help, huh Arnold?" Torvald remarked while shaking Arnold's hand.

"Hey, we'll take whatever help we can get," Arnold answered back.

"We're not that far from my locker guys," Lorenzo said as he ran towards his locker. The group rallied to his locker door. While Lorenzo was putting in the combination to his lock, Arnold checked on the group of survivors.

"Are you guys ok?"

"Never better Football-head," answered Helga

"Yeah, I'm alright," Sid replied.

The group nodded their heads, including Eugene, Mary, and Maria, letting him know that they were doing fine. Arnold looked over at Gerald, expecting an answer.

"I'm good bro. Unfortunately, I can't say the same for Joey," Gerald lamented, staring at the blood soaked tiles on the ground. His heart heavy from the burden of losing a classmate, Arnold slid to the floor covering his face in disappointment.

"I got it," Lorenzo cried out, flipping open the phone, powered it on and began dialing, when he noticed something.

There was no dial tone.

Just silence.

"I'm not getting a signal," Lorenzo cried, hearing the panic gathering in his voice.

"The towers are probably out," Helga answered. "Well this was a precious waste of time, what are we going to do now?"

"We keep looking for survivors," Arnold replied. The group continued looking through classrooms, in hopes of finding survivors. Rhonda noticed something by one of the classrooms. A small black boot covered in blood, belonging to her best friend Nadine. She slowly picked up the boot, tightly wrapping it in her arms, as she broke down, crying.

"These were Nadine's. Earlier, I was telling her how out of style these were, now... they've killed her," Rhonda said while sobbing. Arnold went over to Rhonda, trying to console her. Most of the group followed but Helga kept her distance.

"Look at him over there, always being the shoulder to cry. How hokey can you be, that's weakness, something we can't have, especially at a time like this," Helga muttered to herself. Watching the group still attending to Rhonda, Helga pulled her locket, tightly clutching it in her hands.

"_Oh Arnold, if only you could be my shoulder to cry on. If only you could hear me cry for you, see the tears roll down my face, hear me yearn for your love…"_

She would be interrupted by the sounds of wheezing behind her. But this wheezing was sounded different. It sounded creepier than normal, with a slight growl under it. Helga grasped her bat and turned around confirming what she thought, Brainy had become infected. Zombie Brainy opened his mouth, ready to pounce on her, but Helga swiftly struck him down, slamming the bat into his forehead. Arnold and the group quickly ran to see the commotion.

"Whoa, you killed zombie Brainy," Gerald noted.

"He was a zombie?" Helga quipped, but the joke fell on deaf ears, particularly with Arnold who disgustedly walked away afterward.

"What is it Football-Head?"

"You just don't get it Helga. You just don't get it." Helga was seeing that once again that her actions were pushing Arnold away, but this time she honestly didn't know what she was doing wrong. Along with the rest of the crew, Helga followed Arnold down the hallway leading to the school gym. Arnold could hear something behind the doors of the gym, the sound of… speech.

"I think hear something," Arnold informed the group.

"Yeah, more zombies," Helga retorted.

"No, it sounds like people talking,"

Helga pressed ear against the door, and sure enough, she could hear people talking as well.

"Survivors," said Helga.

When Arnold slowly knocked on the door, all talking ceased. There was a slight pause before they heard a booming voice.

"Alright you brain eating bastards, we're ready for you."

Arnold immediately knew the voice. "Coach Wittenberg?"

"Arnold? Arnie is that you?"

"Yeah Coach, it's me, with Helga, Gerald, and several other kids."

They could hear the voice of a husky voiced woman behind him. "What the hell is that at the door?"

"Tish, its Arnold," Coach Wittenberg replied.

"Arnold? Have you seen Helga, did she make it?"

"Yes, Mrs. Wittenberg, she's with me, along with several more of us."

"Jack, what the hell are you waiting for, let them in," Tish demanded from her husband.

"Give me a minute Tish, I need help getting this out the way."

"Uhh, you may need to speed this up," Park said as he noticed several zombies forming a horde just down the hall.

The doors swung open allowing the kids to run inside the gym for protection. Once in the gym, Coach Wittenberg tightly embraced Arnold with a hug.

"Arnie, you're a sight for sore eyes, repetitively,"

"Uhh, yeah coach," Arnold said, barely able to breathe.

Tish and Helga sat to the side, glancing at Arnold and Coach Wittenberg.

"Honestly Helga, I figured you'd be the type of kid who would survive something like this"

"Yeah, you too Tish. And they said all those zombie movies were junk and a waste of time," Helga told Tish with a smirk forming on her face.

"Exactly," Tish replied, as the two of them started laughing.

The other kids began seeing some of the other kids who also survived, comforting them, and swapping war stories. There were about twenty five of them in gym.

Harold heard a voice call out to him. He turned around to see Patty calling his name.

"PATTY!" Harold yelled running her direction.

"HAROLD!" Patty cried back. The two ran into each other's arms, tightly embracing one another.

"Oh Harold, I was so worried about you. I was wondering if you made it," Patty told Harold, as she eased her embrace from around his rotund body.

"Patty, I was scared that the zombies got you," Harold tearfully replied, his still wrapped tightly around her. "Hey Patty?"

"Yes Harold?"

"I'm pretty hungry, do you have any food with you?"

Patty let out a small chuckle. "I think I still may have a snack cake with me,"

"Oh thank you!"

Rhonda sat on a bleacher, still holding Nadine's boot. She glanced around and saw a spider like figure walking towards her. That could only mean…

"Nadine! I thought you were dead,"

"Rhonda!"

The two hugged each other, with tears filling their eyes, and their emotions were let loose.

"We got separated, and when I found this boot, I… I… I didn't know what to do with myself, I thought you were gone."

"It slipped off as I was running. I found the gym, and I was hoping you were in there. I was so scared when that crowd separated us," Nadine sobbingly explained to Rhonda.

"Let's always stay by each other side, Nadine," Rhonda proposed.

"Okay. Oh and can I have my boot back?"

Rhonda giggled as she found herself still clutching on to Nadine's boot. A warm smile spead across Nadine's face as Rhonda handed the boot back to her, still covered in blood.

"Uhh, I guess I need to rinse this out," Nadine noted.

"I'll go with you, Rhonda said, as she followed Nadine to a sink.

Meanwhile, Phoebe was trying to get her thoughts together before talking to Helga. Her best friend's behavior was starting to frighten her and felt she had to let her know. It wasn't going to be easy, Helga was infamous for her temper, and Phoebe wasn't exactly sure if she was prepared to feel her wrath. But she figured it was probably best to hear what she had to say from her best friend. She swallowed her fears and slowly approached Helga, ready to get her message out.

"Helga, I need to talk to you about something," Phoebe announced, her feet shuffling nervously on the hardwood floor.

"What do you have to say, Pheebs?"

"I… I… your…uhh," Phoebe found herself stumbling over her words. She eyes Helga growing more and more impatient. "C'mon Pheebs, spill it."

Inhaling the lump growing in her, Phoebe let her thoughts go free.

"Helga, your behavior is… it's… unsettling."

"Unsettling?" Helga cried out. "What do you mean unsettling?"

Phoebe was sensing Helga's emotions growing more and more, but she wasn't going to mince words.

"It's been unsettling, Helga."

"Is this about the Lila thing? Criminy, Pheebs, she was a damn zombie," Helga shrieked.

"It was the way you went about it, Helga, it scares me. It's like the person inside is dying off, slowly getting replaced by this empty coldness, wrapped with this soulless shell. That's not the Helga I became friends with. You may not have been the nicest or most polite person, but there was emotion, there was someone with a heart. I don't want to see you become one of them," Phoebe sorrowfully and agonizingly revealed.

"What do you mean one of them, Pheebs, you mean like a zombie?"

Phoebe softly shook her head. "I don't want to see you become some dead child walking," Phoebe wailed.

"Whatever," Helga mumbled to herself storming off from her friend. "Everybody wants to portray Helga as the bad gal, as the monster." She begins to reflect on her actions, and begins to steadily realize that she is pushing away the people she care for the most, her best friend and the boy she has fallen hopelessly in love with. Helga lets out a quiet sigh, before lamenting her behavior.

"I'm not a monster. I'm not a dead child walking. Am I?" she asks herself as she curls up in the corner of the gym alone.

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><p><strong>Sorry for the long delay, but life, work and honestly didn't really feel like. There are just times when you just lose the edge for writing. And no there was no writers block, I had it planned out, just didn't feel like putting the words on the page. But hey I'm back and hopefully there are still those who may still feel like these words are worthy to cross your eyes. And for them I say thanks.<strong>


	4. Dead Getaway

**Disclaimer: Blah blah blah… me not owning Hey Arnold or whatever, blah blah blah… something about Nickelodeon owning the right and being asses, blahzay, blahzay, yada yada whatever.**

**Okay, I'm going to clarify a few things here about the fic. For one this story takes place after the movie, so the kiss on the rooftop happened. However because they're still in fourth grade, Helga is still suppressing her feelings for Arnold. Also there is no Jungle Movie, but don't trip folks, you may miss something. Anyways Happy Halloween, let's get it on.**

**EDIT: Since I kinda rushed to get this chapter posted before Halloween, I skipped over a part that was originally supposed to be there, so please re-read the ending of this chapter before preceding to the next.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: Dead Getaway<strong>

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><p>"I'm not a monster. I'm not a dead child walking. Am I? I'm just doing what it takes to survive. You can't get emotionally attached at moments like this. Don't these idiots know it'll get them killed?" Helga sighed to herself as she sat in the corner of the gym. Was she really turning into this "monster"? Was her heart actually turning cold? Or was she doing what needed to be done during this catastrophe. It wasn't as if she didn't care about her fellow classmates and friends. Helga felt the crushing sights of seeing her classmates fall before her. She wanted to see them make it through this crisis, and was willing to fight for them. Thing was she didn't know how she would channel her emotions. This was Helga Pataki, revealing her true emotion wasn't her forte. So many thoughts flooded her head. Not only was she shoving away the boy she loved, but her loyal, trusting best friend, a friend who was normally with her through thick and thin. She knew something had to be done to make amends. She gathered herself, stood on her feet, and was on the verge of looking for her best friend, when she heard a familiar voice squeaked its way into her ear.<p>

"Helga."

She turned to her left side and saw Phoebe, holding her hands together nervously.

"Pheebs?"

"I was thinking I may have been a bit too harsh moments ago. I wanted to apologize, Helga. You're… you're not turning into a zombie, I was just worried," Phoebe revealed.

Helga thought to herself for a moment, and breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's ok, Pheebs, you may be right. I have been acting a bit… well… crazy. I mean look around us. This is a crazy situation here."

"I know Helga, it can be hard to grasp the situation around you. I realized I may not have been completely fair."

Helga looked up into the gym lights and smiled. She turned her gaze over to, approached her and gripped her hand tightly. "You didn't have to apologize, Phoebe. I'm going to try to have my head on straight. We're going to make it through this, Pheebs," Helga announced to her friend of many years. "You, wouldn't have happened to have seen the old Football Head?"

"I believe he's by the equipment room with Gerald and Coach Wittenberg," Phoebe responded.

"Arnie, what the hell are we going to do get out of this predicate?" a worried Coach Wittenberg shouted as he paced the wooden floors of the gym, thinking of his next move.

"I think you mean predicament, Coach, and calm down, we'll think of some way out of this," Arnold replied, trying to calm down the rattled coach.

"Do you not see what is going, Arnie? People are ripping each other apart in front of our eyes. I had to crush a person's skull. To think this day started off normally."

"So you and Mrs. Wittenberg went through a lot, huh?" Gerald asked.

"I tell you, boys. I was on my way to the school gym to try to recruit some kids for tennis,"

_Coach Wittenberg was walking the halls of P.S .118, carrying bag of tennis rackets, and thinking of a way to get the children of the school to join his team, when he hears a nagging voice piercing his ears._

"_Hmp, I see you're attempting to put together some rag-tag team for a sport you don't have the slightest idea how to play," smirked Tish, standing smug in her pink jacket, pink sports bra, violet and pink spandex shorts and pink tennis shoes. "You really have no standards, huh Jack?"_

_Coach Wittenberg snarled back, "I'll show you Tish, I'll have the best damn tennis team in Hillwood, repetitively."_

"_Oh really? Just so happens I'm starting a team in the same league, and I'm here for exact same reason. We'll see whose best out here won't we?"_

"_You're on, Tish!" Coach yelled back, balling his fist in the air, and moving it back and forth._

_The smirk on Tish's face unfurled when she heard a strange sound in the distance._

"_Jack, did you hear that? Tish wondered aloud, trying to pinpoint the slight growl in the halls. "It sounded like some kind of animal."_

_Coach and Tish looked down the halls, to see the blonde kid Robert lurking about. His mouth was covered in blood, and skin covered in sores and had what looked like a bite mark on his arm._

"_Kid, are you okay?" Tish worryingly asked the fourth grader, who faltered several steps. He stopped for a few seconds, before letting a screeching growl._

"_What the hell?" a bewildered Tish yelled, as Robert charged at her full speed, catching her of guard, and pounced on her. The blonde boy tried to slash and claw away at Tish, as she struggled to fight him off. A stunned Coach Wittenberg dropped the bag and stood trying to take in what he was seeing. _

"_Jack, don't just stand there, do something," Tish yelled at her husband, as she continued trying to avoid a mauling at the hands of an infected nine-year old. Her voice snapped the coach back from his trance. He looked around the hall and saw a fire extinguisher hanging from the wall. He yanked the extinguisher from its hoist, and swung hard at Robert. The extinguisher hit the boy on the side of his skull, sending blood flying all over the place. Tish laid there shocked, and what she had just seen._

"_Did you have to kill the kid, Jack?!" a screeching Tish yelled, as she saw the blood pooling by the boys corpse._

"_I wasn't trying to, Tish," Coach tried to explain. "But the kid he was almost like… some sort of zombie. I didn't know what else to do."_

_The coach would be interrupted by several more howls in the hallway as several adult zombies came running at them down the hall. Coach Wittenberg grabbed his bag, and fled with his wife into the school gym, where several children were playing. Tish ran toward the equipment room, grabbing a metal volleyball net post, while Coach Wittenberg tried to hold the zombies off._

_The children and the gym erupted in screaming as the zombies tried to rip away at Coach's body. He swung the fire extinguisher, striking one of the zombies in its temple. He swung away at another zombie lunging at him, hitting it in its mouth, and knocking it to the floor. It gave him the opening to strike the zombie repetitively with the bottom of the extinguisher crushing its skull. A zombie behind him was ready to pounce on an unsuspecting Coach, but was struck down by Tish wielding the volleyball net post. She took a crack at a female zombie, sending it falling. She finished it off by driving the post into the zombies head, sending blood spurting into Tish's face. The husband and wife looked around the gym to see the panic among the kids. _

"_Alright, kids calm down. There is a crisis going on but we'll do everything we can to keep you safe," the Coach announced to trying to assure the kids safety._

"_Coach, what's going on?" one boy asked._

"_I don't know, kid, but it looks like a zombie attack, believe it or not," Tish responded._

"_Like in the movies?" another kid asked._

"_Yeah," Coach sighed looking at the bodies on the floor._

"And that's what happened, Arnie. We blocked the doorways, and tried to make sure this place was as zombie proof as possible," Coach Wittenberg told Arnold, while digging in the bag for something.

"Man, this all messed up," Gerald said with hints of worry on his face.

"Yeah, you're telling me boys," Coach added as he pulled out a bottle of scotch and several shot glasses from the bag, setting them on a desk and filled one of them with the dark liquid.

"Coach, what is that?" Arnold asked pointing at the bottle.

"Oh this? It's a grown up drink boys," Coach told them as he quickly knocked down the shot glass and refilled it.

"Jack, what the hell? You bring scotch to an elementary school, no wonder you can't keep a damn job," Tish screamed while entering the equipment room, staring daggers through her husband. She looked at the shot glass on the desk and scanned the bottle of scotch before giving her husband a request.

"Pour me a shot,"

Coach quickly poured the other shot glass, giving it to his wife. Simultaneously, they drank the shots, shaking their heads reactively and letting the burn of the shot subside in their chest as Coach poured another two shots.

"Uh, Coach and Mrs. Wittenberg, I don't know if it's a good idea to be drinking at a time like this?" Arnold queried.

"Arnie, when you're grown, you'll there are times when drinking can help you out. This is one of those times," Coach answered, as both Wittenberg's quickly gulped them down. "Yeah kid, I just heard the story about how my cousin, Connie, got ripped apart at the hands of these zombies, as her best friend watched helplessly," Tish told Arnold as she shook her head once again while Coach put the top back on the glass of scotch.

"Arnie, you wouldn't happen to have an idea of how we're getting out of here would you?"

Arnold disappointingly replied, "No coach, no idea at the moment."Just then, their son, Tucker, ran into the equipment room.

"Mom, Dad, the kids are yelling at each other. A fight may break out."

"Oh boy," Coach Wittenberg groaned. As they ran out of the equipment room, they were confronted with the yelling and tension between the kids.

"What's going on here?" Coach yelled.

"The sixth-graders and fifth-graders are trying to boss us around, and tell us what to do," a fourth grade kid complained.

"You little brats need to be put in your place before you get us all killed," a sixth-grader responded, sparking the shouting and yelling once again. Arnold whistled loudly gaining the attention of the kids.

"Hey, guys we need to quit fighting with each other and start working together," Arnold informed the group of children.

"Who put you in charge? You're just a little fourth-grader, why are we listening to what you have to say?" A sixth-grader yelled out, greeted with shouts of agreement from his fellow sixth-graders.

"I'm not trying to be put in charge. I'm trying to let you know that all this fighting amongst each other is going to get us killed. I know we've had our problems in the past, but now is not the time worry about that. Everyone is important, from the biggest and oldest to the smallest and youngest. Everyone has to work together, because that increases our chances of making it out of this. Together. Because if you can't do anything for anyone else, who's going to something for you in your time of need?" Arnold informed a now silent group of kids, allowing his message to sink in.

"Preach on, brotha," Gerald gleefully cheered.

"That Arnie is a Godsend," Coach Wittenberg whispered in his wife's ear who nodded in agreement.

"_Oh Arnold, I stand in awe at your inspirational ability. You're a natural born leader, and so wise beyond your years. Your words swim to the depths of my heart," _Helga thought to herself as she clutched her locket under the bleachers of the gym. She crawled from under the bleachers and confronted Arnold.

"What do you want Helga?" Arnold asked, anticipating an annoying action from Helga.

"Arnold, I just wanted to say, that some of the things I've said and done, may have crossed the line,"

"Uh huh," Arnold said, expressing a bit of doubt in her apology. Yet at the same time he did feel something different from most of her back handed apologies.

"It's just that… that… uhh, I don't know how to say it."

"You were scared."

"Maybe," Helga sighed.

"Helga, its okay to be afraid. These are trying times, and people will react in different ways, butholding your feelings back doesn't help," Arnold replied.

"_Wow, should I tell him now?" _Helga thought to herself, shuffling her feet around. "Listen, Arnold, I don't know if its fear or what, but it's like I… I have to stay strong."

"Emotion isn't weakness Helga, in fact shows me how much strength you have. By the way I accept your apology," Arnold warmly said to Helga.

"Thanks, Arnold," Helga responded. "Hey Arnold."

"What is it Helga?"

"Don't go getting all soft on me Football-Head,"

"Whatever you say Helga," Arnold said with a soft smile on his face.

Coach Wittenberg opened the exit of the gym to see if there was way out of that direction. He saw a horde of zombies in front of the city bus, and quickly closed the door.

"Well, Tish, we may have a ride out there."

"Okay, Jack, but how are we getting to it,"

On the bleachers, Phoebe watched a young boy playing with a R/C car he brought for show and tell, when an idea came to her head.

"Coach Wittenberg, I have an idea," Phoebe shouted at the coach. "Is there an air horn in the equipment room?"

Coach heard her and ran back to the equipment room, finding an air horn.

"Got it kid," Coach said as he pulled it out.

"What's your idea, Pheebs?" Helga asked her.

"I overheard Coach saying there was a bus outside, but there were also zombies. Since zombies are attracted by noise I thought of making something that can provide a diversion while we escape," Phoebe let the group of kids know while Coach tossed her the air horn. She asked the kid for the R/C car, who obliged and provided the toy. She taped the air horn to the car and walked towards the exit of the gym.

"Let's hope this works," Phoebe told the group of kids as Coach opened the doors to the gym. She taped the button of the horn, emitting a deafening noise. She sent the car on its way, weaving through the crowd of zombies gathered in the schoolyard. The shrieking noise caught the attention of the zombies, leading many of them away from the doors of the gym.

"It's working." Sid yelled in relief, knowing that they may have finally found a way to escape the hellhole that was their school.

"Pheebs, you're a genius," Helga said as she took her bat and forcefully struck one of the few zombies that remained in the schoolyard. With a pathway now clear, everyone in the gym quickly ran across the playground into a hole in the fence leading to the bus. Coach hopped in the driver's seat, awaiting for every person to get in. He watched as kid after kid ran onto the bus, finally, as his wife was the last one in, closed the door. He looked on the blood covered floor, finding the keys, quickly sticking it in the ignition.

"Start the damn bus, Jack" Tish yelled at her husband, as he turned the ignition of the bus. Putting the bus into gear, he mashed the pedal and got the bus rolling, splattering several zombies who managed to walk in front of the bus. They had finally left the school, but one question dawned on them: where was their next destination?

"Hey Arnie, any ideas on where we're going? Coach asked.

Arnold began to think to himself. He wanted to save his grandparents and the boarders of Sunset Arms, but would that be fair to any of the children on the bus. How would they decide who they would check on, where, and how would they do it. Would they split up? What about supplies? Many question flooded his train of thought, when sound of his name being called interrupted his thinking.

"Arnold."

He turned around to see Helga with her hands crossed, as if she were to plead for something.

"Arnold, please stop by my house, please. My Dad stocks up supplies for stuff like this. He's got things that protect us, and there's supplies. Please?"

Another though hit him. He did recollect that Mr. Pataki did apparently have some military supplies, remembering that Halloween night, when they pulled the prank that had the whole city going nuts. But should it be their stop?

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><p><strong>Hope ya'll liked this chapter. Wanted to leave ya'll a Halloween treat. And shout outs to my reviewers, especially One Fine Wire, with the writing of your caliber I'm humbled that you like my story. Also, to Lena2244 your reviews have helped guide my approach to the story. Thanks to all that have reviewed<strong>. **Watch out for the new chapter.**


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